


Won't You Liberate Me

by JackEPeace



Category: Conviction (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate gay ending, F/F, Femslash, Post 1x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: “You aren’t the only person who’s ever done anything wrong, you know,” Tess says because she can taste the bitterness sharp on her tongue and she can’t do anything about it. “Everyone makes mistakes.” 
Hayes studies her and Tess forces herself to remain still under her gaze, to meet her eyes. “Is that what this is about?” Hayes questions and there’s something soft to her voice, a gentleness that Tess isn’t sure that she’s ever heard before. In the quiet of the office, with only the two of them to hear it, Hayes’ voice is finally quiet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet is set post 1x06 (I know I'm a week late but hey better late than never right!) and gets a little NSFW-ish toward the middle but nothing too racy because I chickened out. The title comes from the song "Send Them Off!" by Bastille.

One of the most important things Tess learned following the death of her aunt was that there was no distraction quite like work. Her peers at school always called her a 'kiss-ass' or a 'teacher's pet' under their breath when they weren't trying to copy off her assignments and the habit to throw herself into her studies served her well in college, though it did little to help her make any friends. So, it's an easy habit to fall back on when she stumbles away from Matty Tan's coffee cart, feeling a little like throwing up. Her mind is addled, her heart thumping in her ears and her feet carry her back to the DA's building. They might have just closed a case but there's always plenty to do and the last thing Tess wants is to be home alone with her thoughts.

Tess curls her fingers into her palms, trying to keep her hands from shaking. She can't bring herself to look at her reflection in the elevator doors, unwilling to meet her own eyes and admit to her cowardice. She knows that she hasn't blown her chance to make amends forever but right now that doesn't make her feel any better.

The elevator doors slide open and Tess is surprised to find several lights already burning brightly on the floor. It seems unlikely that anyone else in the team would be here at this hour, seeking refuge among the office furniture and boxes of old case files. She switches the lights off as she makes her way toward the conference room, trying to ignore the eerie feeling that she isn't alone after all. She feels like a little girl again, singing to herself to try and keep the ghosts away while she hurried across the floor toward the light switch.

Tess nearly jumps out of her skin when she reaches into Hayes office to hit the light and sees a figure sitting on the couch. But tonight, old ghosts seem to be taking a break because the figure is Hayes herself. She looks at Tess through half-lidded eyes and she's slow to lift the corner of her mouth into a sardonic half smile. Tess doesn't need to see the half empty bottle of bourbon dangling from Hayes' hand to put the pieces together.

Tess furrows her brow. "You come here to drink?"

"Only when the bars are closed." Hayes lifts the bottle in a little salute, leaning back against her couch.

"But the bars aren't-"

"Shhh, Blondie, don't you know an excuse when you hear one?" Hayes questions. She pats the couch beside her. "Come sit with me."

Tess shakes her head even though a little voice in her mind is already trying to push her forward, telling her to walk into Hayes' office and sit there beside her. "I don't think-"

"I hate drinking alone," Hayes says and then laughs at herself, shaking her head. "Well…I'd prefer not to drink alone tonight."

Tentatively, Tess steps into the office, her mouth suddenly dry, her hands still shaking. She presses her palms to her thighs as she sits, hoping that Hayes won't notice. "What's special about tonight?"

Hayes sighs, shrugging and leaning back again, throwing one arm over the back of the couch. "Don't you hate it when something you want doesn't work out the way you saw it in your mind?" She asks this almost absently, as though posing a question unrelated to the reason she's currently sitting in her office with a bottle of bourbon.

Her words slice through Tess and she finds herself nodding before she can caution herself against admitting to this. "Yes," she says softly. It's too easy to remember Matty Tan's open and smiling face, so kind and trusting, unaware that she was the one who robbed him of so many years of his life.

Tess is embarrassed to feel a thickness in her throat and a prickle in her eyes. She turns away before Hayes can sniff out this weakness. "I should-"

"What are you doing here?" Hayes talks over her, her fingers playing with the ends of Tess's hair. "I would've thought a pretty girl like you-"

"Don't," Tess says softly and she looks back at Hayes. "Please don't."

Hayes lifts an eyebrow. "Don't what?" She pauses, considering her closely, and her hand stills. "What's wrong?"

Tess shakes her head, pulling in a deep breath and hoping that it's enough to push down the tightness in her chest and throat and make her heart beat return to normal. "It's nothing," Tess assures her quickly. It had been hard enough admitting the truth to Frankie and while Hayes already knows what she did as a kid it doesn't make it an easier to tell her about Matty Tan and the life she ruined. "Why are you drinking alone in your office?" There's more sharpness than necessary to her tone in hopes that she can distract Hayes from her.

Hayes lets out a dry laugh. "Aren't we just a pair?" She muses, shaking her head. "We should start a club: suppressing our feelings through drinking lots of alcohol."

Tess looks at her pointedly. "I'm not drinking."

Hayes holds out the bottle. "We could change that?"

Tess makes a face and Hayes smiles, shrugging. "Good idea," she says, setting the bottle aside. "You shouldn't sit too close, you know. My mess is contagious; 's why everyone always keeps me at arm's length."

For a minute, Tess doesn't know what to make of Hayes' words. It slowly starts clicking into place: the fancy dress, the bourbon, the fact that she's still hanging around the DA's office when she could be trolling for a companion through the many city bars. "Is this about Wallace?"

Hayes points at her and mimes firing a gun. "Bingo. I knew there was a reason we kept you around."

Tess rolls her eyes. "I never thought you'd be the type to be hung up on an ex." She mumbles this because she's not entirely sure that she's brave enough to say it to Hayes' face.

Not that it matters. Hayes hears anyway and manages to laugh even as she's wincing at Tess's words. "I'm not sure I'm drunk enough for that much truth."

There's a sting of bitterness in Tess's chest now; it's just as impossible to shake loose as the tightness pressing down on her lungs. She's always done everything right, everything exactly as her teachers and her therapist said that she should: she worked hard, she didn't let herself slip into a state of fear and anger over the death of her aunt, she's devoting her life to helping those who need it. And she doesn't feel any better. And then there's Hayes, with her own slew of problems and she doesn't do anything exactly as anyone tells her to do and Tess thinks it would be so much easier to just grab a bottle and rampage through people's lives like a human hurricane.

Not that those things probably make Hayes feel any better, either.

"You aren't the only person who's ever done anything wrong, you know," Tess says because she can taste the bitterness sharp on her tongue and she can't do anything about it. "Everyone makes mistakes."

Hayes studies her and Tess forces herself to remain still under her gaze, to meet her eyes. "Is that what this is about?" Hayes questions and there's something soft to her voice, a gentleness that Tess isn't sure that she's ever heard before. In the quiet of the office, with only the two of them to hear it, Hayes' voice is finally quiet.

It only makes Tess feel worse. Looking at Hayes makes her feel like she's not the only fragile one and for some reason, it only makes her feel annoyed. "It doesn't matter," she says firmly. "It's over now."

If only she truly believed that.

At least Hayes is smiling at her. "That definitely deserves a drink." She picks up the bottle and hands it over to her and Tess takes it because she doesn't know what else to do.

She knows that she doesn't have to drink but she does anyway, tipping her head back and swallowing more of the bourbon than she'd anticipated. Tess hands the bottle back, sputtering, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. But Hayes is smiling at her and the alcohol burns on the way down and it makes Tess smile too. "And screw Wallace too," she says with more bravery than she feels and that feels good too.

Hayes laughs and drops the bottle down beside the couch with a heavy thud. "That was the original plan for the night."

Tess wishes that she could blame the sudden fire in her chest on the bourbon alone but that would be a lie, the easy way out. It has everything to do with Hayes and her presence beside her and the thought of her in Wallace's office instead, kissing him and letting him push up her dress and put his hands on her. It would be also be a lie for Tess to blame her attraction on Hayes on that image and the alcohol and the fact that they're both here together when everyone else is gone.

It's just those things that make her feel brave enough to lean forward, to reach for Hayes with her still shaking hands and pull her in for a kiss. Hayes meets her halfway, like she knew exactly what it was that Tess had on her mind. And maybe she did. Tess always feels like she's three steps behind everyone else, especially when it comes to Hayes Morrison.

Hayes tastes like the bourbon and burns a trail through her body just as easily as the alcohol and Tess feels like she's on fire before Hayes even reaches for her. But when they do touch, she's certain Hayes will pull her hands away and find her palms burning. Hayes doesn't pull away, thankfully. Tess isn't sure that she wants to live in a world without that contact anymore.

As aggressive and abrasive as Hayes can be, she's a surprisingly gentle kisser. Tess sighs into her mouth, slipping her hands through Hayes' hair to pull her closer. She wants to believe that she's the only one who has ever seen this side of Hayes before, this gentleness and desperation and it makes her want to slow down, to breathe and take her time to savor the fact that she has Hayes Morrison in her arms.

But a part of Tess worries that if they stop then the moment will be lost forever.

Hayes presses into her like she feels the same way, like she's desperate to mold them together before the moment passes and sense settles over them. Tess can't think straight, not with Hayes kissing her and touching her and pushing her backward and she isn't sure that she wants to anyway, not if her better judgement tells her to stop this before it goes any further.

Instead, she just lets Hayes lay her down on the couch. She lets Hayes kiss her neck and the hollow of her throat and her shoulders, tracing freckles with teeth and tongue. She lets Hayes pull off her shirt, tossing it aside and she laughs when Hayes kisses the swell of her breasts partly because her touch tickles and partly because she just can't believe this is happening. Tess can feel Hayes smile against her skin and a surge of warmth spreads through her body and she just pulls her closer.

They shed the rest of their clothes and Tess loses track of the trails that Hayes' lips map across her skin. She can feel Hayes teeth and lips and hands on her stomach, her hips, her thighs, the place where she so desperately needs to feel Hayes inside her.

Beneath Hayes, Tess doesn't feel so fragile anymore, she feels as hot as the fire spreading between the two of them and stronger for it and Tess can't help but wonder if Hayes can feel it too.

* * *

 

When Tess showers the following morning, she can't completely erase the signs of Hayes. They're all over her body: bruises on her hips and her thighs, a delicious soreness in every muscle, her lips still swollen and bruised. She feels different somehow, like she was reshaped to accommodate Hayes and she wonders if Hayes can see the signs of her presence too, if she's equally indelible.

Even still, Tess finds her stomach fluttering nervously as she gets off the elevator at the CIU's floor and heads for the conference room. She pointedly ignores Hayes' office and the couch and the windows that look out onto the city that bore witness to her dalliances last night. Her heart speeds up and she wants to see Hayes.

She's disappointed. Hayes isn't in the conference room and Tess tries to hide her displeasure. This isn't exactly an unusual occurrence and maybe it's easier this way because she's not sure she could keep looking through case files with Hayes there beside her.

Eventually Hayes does make an appearance, her clothing rumpled, sunglasses firmly in place. Sam snickers. "Nice look, Hayes," he says. "Forget to set an alarm this morning?"

"I've got a massive hangover and your sunny personality is not helping." Hayes drops into one of the chairs, massaging her temples and squinting at them from behind her sunglasses. Her gaze passes over Tess as easily as it does Frankie and Maxine and Tess swallows, looking down at the paperwork in her hands. "Who's got a case for us?"

Tess lifts her head, looking at Hayes, searching for even the smallest recognition of what they did the night before. She can still feel Hayes' lips against her own, can still taste her on her tongue. But Hayes doesn't so much as look at her.

Tess feels like an idiot for thinking that she would.

She's even more embarrassed to discover that she seems to have lost her voice, her words lodged behind the lump in her throat that she apparently never shook the night before. It's worse now, exacerbated by the sudden, horrifying feeling that she's about to burst into tears. She forces herself to remain in the conference room, to participate in any part of the conversation that calls for her to only shake her head or make facial expressions.

Tess thinks that maybe Hayes was right after all about being contagious. She's only mad at herself for not learning what everyone else apparently already has.

Despite her best efforts to put on a brave and indifferent face -modeling herself after Hayes, of course, she learns from the best- Tess is still grateful when the time comes for the team to make themselves useful independently of one another. She slips away to the office she shares with Frankie, grateful that he's going with Sam to talk to the victim's family.

Tess sits at her desk and stares at a pile of witness statements like the words there will somehow help her make sense of the thoughts swirling through her mind. No such luck.

Even still, Tess nearly jumps out of her chair when the office door slams closed and she looks up to see Hayes standing there. The pathetic, sulking mentality that Tess has been nursing all morning abruptly gives way to anger and annoyance, so quickly that she feels like she can do nothing but hold on.

"Can I help you with something?" Tess says brusquely, shifting through the witness statements like that's been doing that the whole time.

Hayes looks at her appraisingly. "So you are mad."

"I'm not mad," Tess snaps even though she's pretty sure that her tone betrays her. Which only increases her frustration. "I'm just disappointed in myself for last night. I should have known better."

Hayes brow furrows. "Tess-"

Tess shakes her head. "No, I get it. I could have been anyone last night. I was just a substitute for Wallace, someone to make you feel better."

Hayes' face grows hard and she crosses her arms over her chest. "I didn't hear you saying no last night."

Tess laughs but there's no humor in the sound. "How was I supposed to say no to you?"

Hayes' eyes narrow. "I'm not some kind of monster." Her anger is tinged with hurt and Tess forces herself not to pay attention. "I'd never want to force you into something you didn't want."

"But I did want it," Tess blurts out before she can stop herself, getting to her feet. She's not sure what she plans to do next but it seems better to be on equal footing with Hayes, even with the desk between them. "That's the worst part. I wanted you. And now…I don't have the experience you do at pretending nothing happened."

Hayes closes the distance between them quickly, leaning across the desk and pulling Tess to her. The kiss is messy and uncomfortable, which seems oddly fitting considering that Tess feels a little messy herself.

"You weren't a substitute for Wallace," Hayes assures her. "Your lips are way softer than his."

Tess is unimpressed.

Hayes gives her an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I'm not good at this part."

Tess begrudgingly hears herself asking, "What part?"

"The morning after part," Hayes says. "I usually take off or make them take off or just…act like I never happened and move on."

"You're right," Tess says, "you are really bad at this part."

Hayes looks like she doesn't know whether to be amused or annoyed. She goes for contrite instead. "What I mean is, I'm glad it wasn't just anybody last night. I'm glad it was you."

Tess purses her lips, swallows. The tightness in her throat seems to have lessened somewhat but she can't say the same for the anxiety fluttering around in her stomach. She's glad that Hayes can't hear the way her heart is hammering in her chest. It's pathetic how easily she's sucked right back in.

It's even more pathetic how she doesn't want it any other way.

"Look, if you want me to kiss you in front of the team and tell them not to sit on that couch anytime soon, I'll do it." Hayes grins. "It would totally be worth it to see the look on Sam's face."

Tess rolls her eyes. "Don't," she says, only half sure that Hayes' offer is serious. "Don't. Just…just come over tonight…when neither of us are upset and…" She shrugs, looking down at the floor. "I'm bad at this part."

Hayes looks at her curious, amused. "Which part?"

Tess sighs. "The propositioning part?"

Hayes smiles. "Well consider me propositioned." She turns to leave and Tess tries not to be disappointed. They are working after all, she shouldn't expect anything more. She shouldn't want anything more. "And I wasn't kidding: you are much softer than Wallace."

"I'll take your word for it," Tess says, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

"You better," Hayes says, winking as she disappears from the office.

Tess watches her go before dropping back down in her chair, sighing and burying her face in her hands. This is probably a terrible idea; she knows enough about the world to realize the danger of two messy people colliding, getting tangled up in one another. But that doesn't change the fact that the only person she wants to be tangled up with right now is Hayes. And she's already pretty well ensnared.


End file.
